Maddie's Second Chance
by supernaturaljunkiejude
Summary: Did Sam actually pull the trigger in the episode Heart or did those 'puppy dog eyes' buy a little more research time?


Maddie's Second Chance

Story line: What might have happened if Sam had NOT pulled the trigger that first time.

Spoiler: HEART

Author's Notes: _Here we go again…Hope you find this one to your liking. It's only my second appearance so please be patient with me…… And so it begins…_

Sam chewed at his lower lip, sitting silently at the motel room desk, as his agile fingers flew across the surface of his laptop.

He'd never hidden anything this serious from his big brother before, not even the letter from Stanford.

Nearly a month had been spent doing research on the sly, whenever Dean was otherwise occupied. Slipping into any library he encountered in the towns they passed through.

Hour after hour, day after day, he's scrutinized archived reference materials and obscure websites. Doggedly determined to find some tidbit that held the promise of a possible answer to what now appeared to an insurmountable problem.

Sam was so grateful to whatever powers had created wireless connection. His laptop was up and running whenever Sam was sitting still for more than five minutes.

_I am soooo screwed,_ he thought resignedly, _I've been so damned scared it would come to this. I've only managed to delay the inevitable. Dean was right, as usual._

It wasn't for lack of due diligence that he'd failed to find the answer he'd so desperately scoured his sources for. Today was the twenty-eighth day of his quest, less than twenty-four hours to go. Stealing a sideways glance at his brother's body, lying face-down, spread-eagled on the twin bed to Sam's right, he wondered if it might be best to simply 'fess up. He was in way over his head and he knew it … Not quite drowning but damned close.

_God, if I tell Dean what I've done he'll never trust me again. He needs to be able to count on me no matter what and I let him down for personal reasons. But how could I do it? It hurt so damned bad after Jess. I couldn't pull the trigger. How could I? Those pleading eyes… I asked her to trust me, just give me a little more time, and now I've let them BOTH down!_

Simply put, there was no cure for lycanthropy. They had tested Dad's theory of killing the sire to break the bloodline, when Dean killed Glenn. It hadn't set Madison free. When he'd let Dean believe that he had ended the struggle for Maddie that next day, all he wanted was more time to find that elusive answer.

Just the thought of what he now had to do brought tears to Sam's eyes. If left unfinished, this piece of business would make him responsible for the deaths of many innocent victims. Sam couldn't live with that.

Two nights ago they'd hunted down and destroyed an evil spirit responsible for the deaths of three people at a newly constructed resort. For some unknown reason the vicious spirit had selectively zeroed in on Dean for most of its violent physical attacks, maybe it disagreed with his snarky brand of humor.

Despite Dean's protests and smartass remarks, Sam had forced his medical ministrations onto his damaged older brother. The resort manager had not only compensated the boys quite handsomely, a thousand dollars to be exact, but had thrown in ten Darvocet out of sympathy over the beating poor Dean had taken. The bruising on his back and left hip made his skin the color of grape juice. Sammy could wash away the blood and put stitches where needed, but only the meds washed away the pain.

While Dean slept, the younger hunter slipped quietly out the door to raid the Impala's well-stocked weapons cache. Silently, he exchanged six of the bullets in his Glock's clip for six of their consecrated silver ones. Upon returning to their room, he slipped fifty dollars from the resort money into his wallet.

Knowing how determined Dean was to never let Sam stray far from his umbrella of protection, Sam tried to concoct a viable story to cover for tomorrow night's absence but drew a blank. He choked down a few Tylenol to stave off the beginning of a throbbing headache and decided to turn in for the night.

Standing by his bed, he kicked off his boots and his jeans, turned off all the lights except in the bath and wearily crawled under the threadbare chenille bedspread. Gratefully he realized he was actually tired enough to sleep.

He awoke several hours later to the sounds of Dean exiting the bathroom, gingerly rubbing his towel through his short-cropped, blonde hair. Although his initial expression was pained, Dean quickly put on his obligatory 'happy face' mask the moment he caught that Sam was awake and looking concerned.

"So, Sammy, go do the shower thing fast and we can buzz down the street to that little diner with those fugly curtains. Thank God the food's better than the décor."

"Yup, I'm starving too," Sam agreed, scrambling out of bed and digging in his roll bag for clean clothes.

Dean had stopped drying his hair and was looking around the small room with a crazy smirk on his face, "Whoa, bro! Seeing this place in daylight leaves me amazed that we could actually sleep with these psychedelic colors screaming so damned loud all night. What do you think, same designer as that little diner?"

Sam grinned back at him and slipped into the bathroom. It was great to see Dean being cheerful even if it was just a cover-up.

Breakfast consisted of lots of decent black coffee, pancakes, bacon and eggs with a dessert serving of Darvocet for Dean. Conversation was mostly lame and tame.

The rest of the morning and a considerable portion of the afternoon was fairly relaxing and low-key, spent in the town library looking for their next gig. Happily for Sam, they found zilch, nada, nothing. Dean could rest for a couple of days and Sam could run his 'errand'.

Another med for Dean after a burger and steak-fries supper around seven o'clock and all Sam had to do was bide his time 'til the television lulled Dean to sleep. Composing a short note as Dean drifted off, he decided to keep it simple.

_Dean, Have to do a little out of town research on a personal project. Took a little money for bus fare. Be back tomorrow. Don't worry._

Sam 

From the online bus schedule he knew it would take take about three and a half hours to reach his destination. He'd arrive around midnight and that would be perfect. He already knew the lunar influence seemed strongest after midnight.

He left the room quietly around 8:30 and caught the Greyhound across the street from the motel about 15 minutes later, paying the driver as he boarded. He was careful to keep his gun well hidden beneath his jacket.

Sitting still for more than three hours with his long spider legs cramped up and no laptop for entertainment nearly killed Sam. Napping for an hour helped but he was afraid he might sleep past his intended stop. He busied himself with planning how he'd get to Madison's place from the bus station, trying to put together a scenario to steel his quavering resolve in case she was to leave the building in full werewolf mode.

_Damn, this ride can't be over soon enough as far as I'm concerned. Could somebody please take care of that screaming baby,,,and what's up with the two old bats talking so damned loud behind me!? Must have forgotten to buy hearing aid batteries again, eh?_

Mentally he chastised himself for being ill-tempered and ornery, but he was so keyed-up and depressed. Just then, the driver announced Sam's stop. Sam struggled to his feet but had to wait for an ancient man trying to drag both himself and a wheeled suitcase down the narrow aisle and off the bus.

Sam disembarked, watching as the bus lumbered away. Sighing loudly, he rubbed his eyes with both fists, sucked in a lungful of fresh air and checked his watch.

_11:50 already! I've got to get in gear fast. No telling when the moon effect will kick in. Last time it was after 3 a.m., but who knows! Please God, let me get there in time!_

He was standing at the deserted taxi stand thinking that if it weren't for his terrible mission tonight he could almost appreciate the bright beauty of that full moon. He hoped that taxis ran this late around here. His brain was racing, his heart was so heavy. It was hard to breathe.

He was startled out of his reverie by a familiar sound approaching from around the side of the bus station. It was the throaty rumble of Dean's beloved Impala, rolling to a stop not three feet in front of Sam, a grim-faced Dean behind the wheel. Sam saw their gear tossed haphazardly in the rear.

Dumbstruck didn't begin to describe Sam's reaction.

"You gonna get your ass in the car or you gonna stand there looking stupid all night?" snarled Dean.

Sam opened his door and then his mouth to try to explain.

"Don't say a word, Sammy. We don't lie to each other, just remember that. We may not admit to the whole truth sometimes, but we never lie. I know who your outside research involves and I'm plenty pissed. Just get in the damn car. We need to get this stakeout going."

Still in a state of shock, Sam slid onto the seat beside his older brother, finally finding his voice to speak, "Dean, how did you know? When did you know?"

"Listen, little brother, I may be a bit dense sometimes. I'm sure as hell not stupid! Did you honestly think I didn't know what went on between you two before she 'turned'? Hell, I'm the one who encouraged it, though I damned well regretted it later… I saw your tears. I saw her eyes. When I heard that shot I felt horrible for you. I tried to believe it was over, but I knew better just a couple hours later. Damn, Sam, I'm no idiot! You weren't despondent over Madison's death. You were wound up tighter than a damn watch spring. I knew for sure what was going down tonight when I noticed the missing silver slugs this morning."

"Dean, I'm so…" Sam began.

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean snapped. "I know what's going on in that geeky head of yours! You don't have to say anything." Dean paused. " Let's just get this together and do what we both know needs to be done, like it or not."

The tension in Dean's black beauty was palpable, an air of sadness and despair surrounded them on the journey to Madison's apartment. On the way, Sam begged God to give him the strength to carry out his dreaded task. He envied Dean his resolute sense of purpose.

As they waited through their lonely, moonlit vigil, the silence became deafening. Sam would have welcomed an angry, quarrelsome Dean with open arms. The silent one was unbearable. They gratefully sipped the large black coffees Dean had insisted on picking up on the way. Fighting the after effects of his pain pill had him straining to stay alert.

Just after 3:00 a.m., Madison's balcony showed a flash of movement. They watched intently as she balanced on the rail and nimbly leaped twenty feet to the grass below. Landing on her feet, she took off running.

Sam and Dean were out of the car and moving with one accord, in perfect step despite the height difference. Perhaps Sam was running somewhat restrained, because of the job at hand. They covered nearly two blocks in record time.

Suddenly, from somewhere ahead of Madison came a sound that caused them both to pause in mid-stride. The blood-chilling enraged howl of a second werewolf!

The tandem hunters looked at one another in total disbelief. Dean silently mouthed the question Sam was thinking. TWO!!?? Dean had killed Glenn at Hunter's Point. How could this be?!

Running again at full speed they managed to stay within twenty-five yards of Maddie's loping, hunched form.

As they approached the public park four blocks from Maddie's place, they witnessed the horrifying, bloody death of a young man at the hands, or rather claws of a very large male werewolf. He had the thrashing, screaming victim raised to shoulder height and with a roaring snarl ripped the man's throat apart. He began to feed, tearing at the corpse's chest. As the beast sensed Madison's approach, he tossed the body aside like a discarded, broken toy and waited for her to draw nearer.

As Dean watched the apparent acceptance by the male of Maddie's very existence, he signaled Sammy to wait and not fire on Madison. Dean stealthily moved through the bushes for a clean shot at the male. As he drew close, the werewolf picked up his scent and with a furious howl he charged Dean!

In horror, Sam realized nearly too late that Dean's recent injuries impaired the hunter's normal, athletic agility. Sam saw the monster knock the gun from Dean's grasp and quickly swung into position before it got hold of Dean. Sam squeezed off three heart shots, and watched as the beast thrashed wildly on the ground a moment and then fell silent.

He turned to Dean to be sure he was safe but Dean's attention was elsewhere.

Dean was watching Madison, who had stopped in her tracks. A strange growl emanated from her as she collapsed to the ground. Dean was beside her in a flash, his retrieved handgun held warily. He gently turned her over to check a theory. Dad's theory.

Her features were once again beautifully human. Glenn had not been her sire.

Seeing Maddie unconscious and unable to be aroused, the two hunters got her off the ground and carried her between them the nearly four blocks back to her apartment and distanced themselves as quickly as possible from the carnage in the park. Picking the lock on her door, they moved her inside, carefully laying her on the sofa.

She lay so quietly, her breathing shallow, but even. Fetching water and ice from the kitchen, Sam used a small towel to apply cold compresses to her forehead.

"Dean, is it over, really? Was Dad right about killing the sire and severing the bloodline? Or is it just some type of temporary reprieve, where she might turn again tonight?"

Dean furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin, studying her sleeping face, wanting desperately to reassure Sammy. "Honestly, Sam? I don't know. I wish there was some kind of test to be sure. As far as I know, you can only recognize one when they 'turn'. We might try a blessed silver medal, but that's only a guess.."

They spent nearly half an hour talking about how Sam could make Madison come to terms with the deaths of her boss and Kurt. She would have to understand that she was as much a victim as they were.

Just moments after a spectacular sunrise, Madison uttered a soft moan and her eyelids fluttered several times. She seemed awake but disoriented.

As she turned her head, her first sighting was of Dean's somber, handsome face, those serious green eyes.

He smiled at her. "Hey, she lives! So who do we have here? The beauty or the beast? Sure looks like a beauty to me. What do you think, Sammy?" Dean teased, attempting to diffuse the situation a bit.

Sam moved into her line of vision. "Yup, it's beauty for sure." He smiled. "How do you feel, Maddie?" deep concern reflected in his soft voice.

Maddie caught sight of the handguns on the coffee table and a look of terror washed over her features. "Oh my God, Sam! Dean! What are you doing here?! Did I 'turn'? Did I hurt anyone?" her panicked voice on the edge of hysteria. Her eyes were huge, full of fear, darting back and forth from the face of one hunter to the other. The tears brimming in her eyes now freely flowing, her body racked with sobs. "Oh my God, oh my God…"

"Sh..Sh.. It's okay, Maddie. You didn't hurt anyone, everything is okay, honestly." Sam bent to within inches of her panic-stricken, tear-streaked face and began to softly stroke her long, dark hair. Smiling his reassurance, Sam wrapped her trembling hand in his much larger one. Wanting to absorb the pain her terror had caused, Sam pulled her to him. Holding her tight, his face buried in her hair, he let his sense of calm wash over her. "You just jogged down to the park after you changed last night, Maddie. Dean and I were watching the whole time. No human contact. No bloodshed."

"Madison, we can't be dead positive, but we believe Dad's theory about killing the sire was right after all. Glenn may have just been a neighbor and a werewolf by chance. We killed another big male werewolf in the park tonight," Dean explained.

Her look of relief made the glow of the early morning sun pale by comparison.

"We're pretty confident it's all over. We think I should stay here 'til tomorrow just to be sure. Dean will come back for me in the morning.'" Sam's smile became a little shy. And he lowered his eyes. "If that's okay with you, I mean."

The look on Maddie's face it clear it was more than okay.

Maddie cooked a wonderful breakfast, saying it was "the least I can do" and after a little pleasant conversation, Dean got up to "go do some stuff and find a warm hotel room." He left speedily, mumbling something about lovebirds, happy to not be elbow to elbow at the kitchen sink with Sammy. He knew Sam and Maddie would celebrate their success in their own way for the rest of the day.

As he closed the door behind him and started down the hallway, Dean's smile was replaced by a look of deep concern and fear glazed his suddenly sad, hazel eyes. If Dad's theory had been right this time, what about his theory on Sammy and the yellow-eyed demon..?

The very thought made Dean wince.

End Notes: _Hope you enjoyed my second attempt to entertain you… For those of you who prefer happier endings, this may have helped ease the pain of "HEART" If you enjoyed this please let me know. Thanks for reading._


End file.
